


the heart of home

by swanfrost



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen, natsume's friends love natsume so much!!!!, sick fic (kinda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 07:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13519164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanfrost/pseuds/swanfrost
Summary: It starts with an odd cold snap in the middle of spring. Natsume wakes up shivering under his thin blankets, breath clouding in white puffs as he dimly wonders who turned on the air conditioning before he realizes that there’s a thin layer of frost cracking over his blanket.An out-of-season youkai causes Natsume to fall sick, but his friends are there to help him through it.





	the heart of home

**Author's Note:**

> for glassheartstrings at tumblr!! a (very late) entry for the 2017 natsume secret santa

It starts with an odd cold snap in the middle of spring. Natsume wakes up shivering under his thin blankets, breath clouding in white puffs as he dimly wonders who turned on the air conditioning before he realizes that there’s a thin layer of frost cracking over his blanket.

Something digs into his side, and Natsume throws his covers off in blind panic, expecting some strange youkai to have taken refuge under his blankets—but it’s just Nyanko-sensei, startling at the sudden loss of warmth, his tiny claws splayed mid-stretch.

“Nyanko-sensei,” Natsume says, leaning over to pinch the cat’s cheeks. “You have your own _heated_ bed. Why are you stealing mine?”

With a hiss, Nyanko dives toward the blankets. “It’s too cold for no blankets. Don’t be a selfish hog, Natsume, I’ll get sick!”

But Natsume is busy tracing a finger through the frost covering the floor, frowning.

“Do you think this is the work of a youkai?” he wonders out loud, but Nyanko is buried too deep in his blankets to answer, so Natsume pushes his worries to the back of his head and begins to prepare for the school day.

As he leaves the room, Nyanko manages to poke his head out of the futon. “Natsume!” he calls.

When Natsume turns around, one foot in the hallway already, he’s met with the dark slits of Nyanko’s eyes. “Be wary of blue ice,” the youkai says, “It’ll creep up on you when you least expect it.”

With a frown, Natsume says, “Don’t you mean black ice?” but Nyanko has already disappeared again, and Natsume is left to muse over the vague warning in his own time.

* * *

 

Pulling on a jacket as he leaves the house, Natsume winces at the frost that has layered the garden he’d so painstakingly begun to build just the past week. At this rate, all the plants would die.

The grass crunches underfoot as he walks across the yard, and Natsume pulls his jacket tighter around his shoulders, watching as his breath forms smoke-white clouds against the morning chill. He’s racking his brain, trying to remember if he’s heard anything on the news about _why_ winter has seemingly returned in the middle of spring, but he comes up empty.

 _Oh well_ , he thinks as he rubs his hands together. _It will pass_.

As Natsume steps out the gateway, the strange weather already slipping away from his thoughts, he doesn’t notice the way the ice clinging to the fence glows underneath the weak morning sunlight, flashing bright-blue in an uncanny light. Thus, he’s long gone by the time the ice shudders, as if alive, and begins to slowly, slowly creep along the grooves and etches carved into the walls.

The moment Natsume arrives at school, he’s swarmed by Tanuma and Taki, who are both sporting their own winter gear.

Natsume can barely get a greeting out before Taki blurts out, “It is because of a youkai? I saw on the news that no one really knows why or how. Did you know the temperature only dropped in our area? Outside of this town everything’s normal!”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, Natsume shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t remember seeing or hearing about anything odd. I’m sure everything is fine.”

Despite his protests, Tanuma still fixes him with a worried look. “You’ll tell us, right?” he says, “If anything does happen.”

Natsume blinks in surprise, then smiles softly. “Of course,” he replies. But there’s something nagging at the back of his mind, the whisper of a passing conversation he can’t seem to grasp. The ice under his feet crackles, but the sound is quickly drowned in the commotion of the schoolyard.

With a smile, Taki grabs both boys by the arms and links them together.  “Whatever it is,” she says cheerily, “We’ll just have to face it together!”

“You say it like we’re going to be fighting some monstrous youkai,” Natsume replies, but he’s swept up in Taki’s glowing joy and can’t help but smile himself.

“Kitty-chan will protect us!” Taki declares, and the three of them walk into school, leaving the frost behind.

* * *

 

Sometime that afternoon, Nyanko finally crawls out of Natsume’s futon, stretching lazily with a sharp-toothed yawn. He pads across the room, wincing slightly at the way the cold nips at his paws, but he’s not too worried about the cold.

When he reaches the window, he leaps onto the windowsill. With a bit of maneuvering, the youkai unlatches the window and squeezes out the opening. It’s even colder outside, and he puffs up his fur in response.

“Dumb winter-wind youkai,” Nyanko mutters, “They always have to wake up during the spring, don’t they? Of course youkai don’t understand human seasons but you’d think they’d have a better internal clock!”

As he complains, he jumps onto the roof, walking to the edge and peering down, into the forest. The sunlight reflects on something, bright and sharp, and after Nyanko’s blinked away the sunspots he notices a winding trail of baby-blue ice, unnaturally rich in color, leading into the forest.

Or perhaps it is coming _out_ of the forest and is headed right for the Fujiwara’s house.

For a moment, Nyanko crouches on the ridge of the roof, tucking his legs underneath his belly. He’s not particularly inclined to do anything – within a few days the youkai will leave, in search of colder skies. As long as Natsume and the Fujiwaras bundle up, there won’t be a problem.

Suddenly, there’s a flash of spiritual energy, hot and powerful, but it’s familiar enough that Nyanko doesn’t so much as twitch.

Footsteps sound behind him, accompanied by the swishing of robes and the tang of pipe smoke. .

“There you are, Madara,” Hinoe calls. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Nyanko wrinkles his nose. “A youkai of _this_ caliber is hardly worth calling me for.”

“Don’t worry,” Hinoe says, sitting down next to Nyanko. “I wanted to speak to Natsume, but he doesn’t like it when we go to that school of his.”

There’s something else in her tone, and Nyanko’s ears perk up. “Don’t tell me,” he says, “It’s _that –_ “

With a shrug, Hinoe exhales, pipe smoke intermingling with her breath in the cold. “That’s what everyone says.”

With a groan, Nyanko rolls over. “Oh well,” he says glumly. “At least it’s not fatal.”

* * *

 

Sometime between lunch and his next class, Natsume finds himself with a pounding headache. It’s a dull throb that seems to pulse from the center of his head, and sometimes when it’s painful enough his ears ring and his eyes blur from tears.

Cradling his head between his hands, Natsume lays his head down on his desk, hoping that the book propped up in front of him is enough to deter the teacher from suspecting him of unproductivity. On the window next to him, the frost forms spiraling patterns on the glass.

Suddenly, Natsume is startled awake by a quick jab in his side. When he raises his head, Nishimura’s concerned expression fills his vision.

“Hey, are you ok?” Nishimura stage whispers as the teacher continues to lecture. “Are you sick?”

It takes a moment for his words to register, and Natsume blinks slowly.

“Yeah…yeah I think so,” Natsume responds, his own voice just a touch quieter than Nishimura’s. “I just have a little headache.”

Nishimura frowns, as if he can see through Natsume’s lie. “You sure?”

Natsume is about to nod in affirmation and go back to dozing off, but a loud _crack_ echoes to the classroom. With a yelp, Nishimura twists his head forward, a sheepish expression overtaking his face.

“Nishimura,” the teacher glowers, lifting his ruler threateningly. “Please continue reading the passage.”

“S-sorry, where were –“

Natsume blinks again, his fingers tracing his desk absentmindedly. Is it just him, or is he seeing black spots dance across the room? Maybe he really should go home.

He’s about to raise his hand and ask to be excused to the nurse when suddenly, the room spins, twisting into a vortex of colors. The last thing he sees is something bright blue creeping at the edges of his vision, the edges fraying like spiderwebs in the wind.

There’s a suffocating heat pressing onto his skin, but Natsume is drowning in something that feels a bit like sticky molasses. He tries to move his limbs but only manages to twitch his fingertips. When he to open his eyes, he sees nothing but darkness.

Then, a rush of frigid wind blasts his body, and suddenly Natsume can move again. With a slight struggle, he sits up, shivering in the cold.

It takes a moment for Natsume to realize that he is dreaming. Colors are starting to bleed at the edges of the darkness, blurred and undefined. In his ears the wind still howls, but now he doesn’t feel quite as cold anymore.

After his head stops spinning, Natsume risks a look around. Hesitantly, he calls out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

Another gust of wind, and something glimmers in the distance. At first, it looks like a sheet of clear ice is crawling towards him, like a glacier might move across the earth. But as it approaches, Natsume realizes that it’s barely translucent; instead, it’s a rich sky-blue, reflecting the light of some unseen source.

All at once, Nyanko-sensei’s words come rushing back to him.

_Be wary of blue ice._

After what seems like an eternity suspended in the silence, the ice stops at his feet.

“Who are you?” Natsume asks, because if this isn’t the work of a youkai, he isn’t sure what it could be. “What do you want from me?”

The ice shimmers in response.

* * *

 

“What?” Taki cries, grabbing Nishimura by the shoulders. “Natsume fainted in class?”

At Nishimura’s frantic nods, Tanuma crosses his arms, worry creasing his brow. “He was fine this morning.”

“Where is he now?” Taki interjects, voice steadily increasing in volume.

“Relax!” Nishimura says, finally slipping free of her grasp. “He’s in the nurse’s office.  Something about dehydration? Or maybe it’s his anemia again.”

Standing next to Nishimura, Kitamoto frowns. “I wonder if it’s because of the cold snap.”

“Whatever the reason,” Taki says, “We have to go visit him. Come on!”

Without waiting for the others to reply, she sprints toward the nurse’s office, coat billowing behind her.

“Wait up!” Nishimura wails, and runs after her.

With a sigh, Tanuma and Kitamoto exchange a fond look before following their excitable friends.

* * *

 

The ice begins to shift and morph until it takes the form of a small, flowing bird with the translucency of ice, blue around the edges and a pale gray in the middle.

 _Hello_ , the youkai says, perched on some invisible branch. Its wings glow brightly in the darkness, and there is an ink-marked mask covering much of its face.   

“Hello,” Natsume answers, uncertain. “Who are you?”

The youkai seems to be about to answer, but suddenly, the youkai and the black around it flash sharply. Natsume finds himself staring up into the worried eyes of Tanuma, leaning over him – except this image is blurred so harshly he isn’t sure how he’s seeing it in the first place. Are his eyes open? Or is he still dreaming?

 _I hope he’s ok,_ Natume hears Tanuma say, as if his head is submerged in a pool and Tanuma’s trying to speak to him from above water.

 _Do you think he’ll have to spend the night here?_ That’s Kitamoto’s voice, steady and calming.

I hope not, Natsume thinks.

Just as suddenly as it had disappeared, the youkai and the darkness returns, swallowing up the image of his friends.

 _I’m sorry_ , the youkai says, dipping its head. _I have caused you much trouble_.

“It’s ok,” Natsume replies, because what else can he say? “You didn’t mean any harm. But is there something you want from me?”

There is a beat of silence.

_You are…Natsume, yes? Natsume Reiko? I gave you my name, once, a long time ago. I would like it back. It is difficult to make the journey to the northern mountains without it._

Oh, Natsume thinks, understanding and relief washing over him.

“I’m not Reiko,” he explains patiently, as he has done many times before. “I’m her grandson, but I can give you your name back.”

All at once, the bird youkai perks up, sprinkles of ice falling off its wings. _Thank you, child of man. Once I receive my name, I will not bother you or your companions any longer._

The bird youkai takes on an ethereal glow, the light radiating from the center of its icy body as if it had a heart – and the youkai collapses into a sheet of ice again, whispering something into the darkness as it disappears.

“Wait—“ Natsume blurts out, hand stretching out on a whim, but all at once the darkness breaks, shattering into light-framed shards of dreamscape.

* * *

 

He jerks awake, eyes flying open. Before he can register where he is, Natsume bolts upright—and then promptly recoils back, hands clutching his forehead.

“Ow!” Nishimura shrieks from the floor. He’s holding his hand to his forehead too, rubbing at the bruise already forming.

Trying to blink the tears from his eyes, Natsume finally reorients himself. When his vision clears, he sees the anxious faces of Taki and Tanuma staring back at him as Kitamoto helps Nishimura stand up.

“Are you alright?” Nishimura blurts out. “I’m really sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to freak out like that.”

With a wince, Natsume tries for a smile. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ve had worse.”

“That doesn’t make it ok!” Nishimura protests, but Natsume brushes off his concerns.

“Really,” Natsume says, “I’m fine. Just a little sick, I think.”

“The nurse said you probably have a cold,” Tanuma supplies helpfully. “And that you were a little dehydrated. Do you think you can walk home?”

As Natsume ponders his current predicament, Nishimua shoves a cup of water into his hands. “We can walk you home if you want! Don’t want you collapsing in the middle of the road in this weather.”

The mention of the weather jogs his memory of the promise he’d made. “I need to get home,” Natsume says, more to himself than to his friends. “I need to go now.”

Saying so, he struggles to stand, reaching out for his jacket draped on the back of the chair Taki is currently sitting in.

All at once, his friends rush forward.

“Can you stand?” Kitamoto asks, placing a steadying hand on his arm.

With a grin, Nishimura cuts in, “Kitamoto will carry you if you can’t, just saying.”

As Kitamoto shoots Nishimura a glare, Natsume laughs softly, tired but genuine. “I’m ok, I think,” he confesses. “I can walk home by myself, at least.”

Unseen by Nishimura and Kitamoto, Taki and Tanuma exchange knowing looks before turning their shared, burning gaze on Natsume.

Cringing, Natsume nods slightly. _Yes_ , he thinks back at them. _It’s a youkai problem._

“If you guys have things to do, please go home,” Natsume suggests. “I’d feel terrible keeping you from anything important. I can walk home by myself; I’m feeling a lot stronger already.”

“But…just in case….” Taki speaks up, placing her chin on her hands with a grin. “Tanuma and I will walk you home, ok? We live the closest to you anyhow. It won’t be a problem.”

Unable to reject her, Natsume can only nod in agreement.

* * *

 

On the way home, Natsume explains the situation between sneezes and coughs. He leaves out the part about the book of names, of course, instead opting to say that the wind youkai had just woken up a little later than it’d meant to and was taking refuge inside his house.

“That’s inconvenient,” Taki says, frowning as she offers Natsume a tissue. “At least it’ll be leaving in a day or two.”

There’s a pit-pattering of footsteps coming up the road behind them, and a white and orange blur flings itself through the air to land heavily on Natsume’s shoulder. He yelps, stumbling.

“Nyanko-sensei,” Natsume complains. “You’re heavy. Have you been stealing Touko-san’s steamed buns again?”

The youkai hisses. “Yes, but that’s not important. I’m just here to make sure you aren’t dead.”

Natsume stops walking. “Dead?”

Just as Nyanko is about to answer, a squeal interrupts him. He twists his head around, pupils blown wide as Taki grabs him, hugging him tightly against her chest.

“Yes, dead— _ack_. _OUCH_. No, not dead. I meant sick. If that youkai, the one that likes to ride the winter winds, wakes up close to a human, the human tends to get sick with a cold, although it’s never anything serious. What luck that it had been sleeping right in our backyard for the past fifty years, huh?”

After struggling unsuccessfully for several seconds, Nyanko sighs as he falls limp. “Hinoe wouldn’t stop nagging me until I came to check up on you. But it seems like you’re doing fine.”

Tanuma frowns. “Ponta,” he says, “Natsume fainted in class today.”

Nyanko shrugs it off with a wave of his paw as Natsume coughs, out of embarrassment more than sickness. “I wouldn’t be surprised. Natsume’s pretty weak.”

“Hey!” Natsume cries out as Nyanko cackles. Tanuma and Taki only shake their heads in exasperation.  

* * *

 

Natsume waves good-bye to Taki and Tanuma at the gateway to his house.

“Thank you for walking me home,” he says with a gentle, sincere smile. After all, sometimes Natsume still can’t believe he has friends that care so much for him.

Taki flashes him a thumbs up as Tanuma waves back.

“Anytime!” she says cheerfully, giving Nyanko one last squeeze before letting him jump back onto Natsume’s shoulder.

“Call us if you run into any more trouble,” Tanuma adds. “We’ll do our best to help.”

Once Natsume is inside his courtyard, he frowns at the way the frost has layered onto itself, so much so that it looks like a thin layer of snow.

“Is it like this inside the house too?” he asks

Nyanko shakes his head. “The Fujiwaras turned the heat up and I chased the youkai out. So now it’s sulking around the house. What a nuisance.”

As Natsume slides open the door, calling out a tentative _I’m back_ , Touko pokes her head out from the kitchen.

“Takashi-kun,” she says, “Are you alright? The school called and said you were feeling a little under the weather.”

With a smile, Natsume nods. “I’m doing fine. Just a little tired. And hungry, I think.”

Matching his grin with a brighter one of her own, Touko says, “Dinner will be ready in just a bit. Why don’t you go and take a hot bath to warm yourself up? I’ll prepare some medicine for you too.”

Bowing his thanks, Natsume waiting until she’s disappeared again to sprint up the stairs. He quickly enters his room and shuts the door behind him.

His room is noticeably colder than the hallway, and as he exhales, his breath comes out as a pale, white cloud.

Sitting in the center of his room is the bird youkai from his dream, blue ice-feathers gleaming even more brilliantly in the fading sunlight. When it sees him enter, it flutters up, dipping its head in greeting.

Natsume opens his drawer and pulls out the book of friends, tucked neatly in between two textbooks.

“Ready?” he asks the youkai, who nods enthusiastically.

As he flips open the book, the only sound that can be heard is the rustling of pages.

* * *

 

The next day, the frost recedes. It’s almost as if there had been no cold snap in the first place—the grass is still a bright green, and the wildflowers lining the road haven’t wilted at all.

Taki and Tanuma ambush Natsume when he walks into school. “Did it leave?” She asks, and sighs in relief when Natsume nods.

“What about you?” Tanuma asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

Trying to fight the odd, warm feeling that is blossoming in the middle of his chest, Natsume answers, “Yup. Touko-san gave me some medicine and hot soup. I don’t think I’ll faint in class today.”

When Tanuma snorts and Taki laughs, bright and clear against the warm, spring morning, Natsume can’t help the smile that blooms across his face. Before he knows it, he’s laughing with them too.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [also posted on my writing tumblr!](http://swanfrcst.tumblr.com/post/170284655057/the-heart-of-home)
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> please drop a kudos or comment on your way out!


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